The Fact Is The Sweetest Dream That

You Have Freedom When You're Easy In Your Harness.

Lovers, Forget Your Love And List To The Love Of These She A Window Flower And He A Winter Breeze.

One Of The Lies Would Make It Out That Nothing Ever Presents Itself Before Us Twice. Where Would We Be At Last If That Were So? Our Very Life Depends On Everything's Recurring Till We Answer From Within.

Take Care To Sell Your Horse Before He Dies. The Art Of Life Is Passing Losses On.

We Can Make A Little Order Where We Are, And Then The Big Sweep Of History On Which We Can Have No Effect Doesn't Overwhelm Us. We Do It With Colors, With A Garden, With The Furnishings Of A Room, Or With Sounds And Words. We Make A Little Form, And We Gain Composure.